


After Close

by Anonymous



Series: Agere Omens [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Age Play Caregiver Aziraphale (Good Omens), Age Play Little Crowley (Good Omens), Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Not much plot, Worldbuilding, bottle feeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27547201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Aziraphale can't wait to spend time with Crowley after the shop closes.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Agere Omens [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009284
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38
Collections: Anonymous





	After Close

Business is as usual at the bookshop. Today it's open, a rare treat for its regular patrons. Unfortunately, not so much for Aziraphale. On top of making sure nobody buys or makes off with a cherished first edition, he has a new concern to worry about, but he would never send it packing willingly. Rather, them.

He aims a worried look up towards the second floor of the shop, peering through the rails with eyes that have gained more clarity and focus and listening with a newly discovered heightened sense of hearing that comes along with being a caregiver. Pages turn, a customer coughs into his elbow, and a couple cars grumble down the street outside. The Golden Girls is playing on the flat screen television that Crowley brought to the bookshop from his flat, a belonging among other personal items like his plants and astronomy books that Crowley has brought with him since he needed to have near constant supervision now, much to the demon's dismay. Certain objects remain at the flat, but they won't collect dust or experience wear and tear. (Because Crowley said so.)

Aziraphale pulls his gold watch from his pocket. Thankfully it's just about time to close up. He gives the last two customers an eye, hoping they'll get the notion to put down their books or pay for them. A man in a fancy wool coat, a regular, knows not to dawdle, and he's out of the shop in minutes. The other is about to follow suit, but stalls. She looks around curiously, as if she's been waiting for the right time to ask a question.

"Mr. Fell, was there a little one in the shop today?"

Aziraphale looks upstairs again, but quickly realizes the suspicion he may be projecting and does a whole once over, as if he hadn't realized there was a possibility of one being there. He's actually been asked this a few times already, so he has an answer rehearsed to make it seem like he's not focused on shooing her out. "Oh, no, NO, not today. In fact, it's quite a rarity. Littles are more into picture books, right? And I'm afraid we don't have much of a demand for those." Well, maybe for a first edition.

The thought of Crowley flipping through a picture book, Aziraphale wonders, how adorable would that--

"Strange. Must be outside." She was another caregiver if she could smell a little. Normal everyday humans and littles only possessed a normal sense of smell. "Well, I won't keep you. Have a lovely evening."

"You as well." Aziraphale continues his acting as he sees her out the door.

As the big red door finally closes for the final time that day, he's quick to lock up, then makes his way to the stairs. 

It's strange how the business of caregivers and their littles has never really affected him until now. He's a part of that lifestyle as of this past week, and so is Crowley. 

He wonders if he should just close up shop permanently, and the thought is on his mind more often now, because of those curious caregivers. They'll keep coming back and smell the same little. Crowley's secret will be difficult to keep private in the days to come. 

The bookshop was originally a headquarters of sorts for work; a place Gabriel and the archangels could find him easily. He's grown attached, and now sees it as a personal library and collection.

A chill runs down his back as he gives the shop another look around. He comes to a realization that he now feels exposed, even in his own home. They could still come there if they wanted. Angels, and caregivers and customers. Demons too; the possibility was there. All people who really had no business to be there anymore. The last thing he needs is for any of them to drop by to harass them. Especially Crowley. His little demon has been having quite a time adjusting. There have been a lot of highs, but the lows, though few so far, hit hardest. Crowley was a quick and witty thinker, but who knows what his classification has and will affect.

"Oh! Crowley." He needs to check on him. He hasn't had the chance since they had lunch together. Crowley wanted soup again, but Aziraphale had wanted to feed him something that would stick with him, so he'd made (well, miracled, as a decent stew needed hours and he only had less than one) a simple chicken stew. Afterwards, he'd left Crowley to entertain himself and have a little lightly-supervised 'me time', though Aziraphale hadn't intended it to be _that_ light on the supervision.

"Crowley! The shop is closed now. You can come downstairs if you'd like." He calls as he climbs the stairs, entering the first room he approaches at the top. Much like Crowley's flat, which has now been temporarily abandoned by its owner and his plants, the bookshop's layout is larger than it appears from the outside, and that makes its layout equally confusing to anybody but an angel or demon.

This first room has a big glass window that overlooks the streets outside, but doesn't exist when you're not in the building. Somehow, the natural sunlight makes its way in to help nourish the small forest of house plants that Crowley tends to. They're beautiful and perfect, as Crowley expects them to be. Aziraphale can't help but wonder if the soft sigh of relief he hears came from one of them as he enters. Gardening tools and a green mister sit out on the work table, but there is no demon gardener to be found.

"You all look absolutely radiant today." The angel delicately holds up one of the plants' leaves, his voice a gentle whisper. He knows Crowley wouldn't be happy with him showing his garden kindness. "I do hope you are all finding this new arrangement to your liking. Let me know if you require anything more."

Next to the plant room is the dwelling where the principality expects to find Crowley, but it, too, is barren of demon life. It's a study, but also where Crowley has spent the last few afternoons while the store is open. Along with a newly mounted flat screen television set, a soft pastel rainbow quilt is spread across the floor with a few pillows and blankets on top. Aziraphale is careful not to step on the lone, soft, black teddy bear or...

Crowley's cell phone sits in a folded wad of one of the blankets beside the tv remote. The lock screen illuminates when he picks it up, and shows a missed call from an unknown caller around two hours ago and a notification for something called a Candy Crunch? Crutch? It doesn't matter. Crowley without his phone is unusual. He slides it into his pocket and gives the barren play area another look over.

"I should treat him with a trip to the toy shop. When he's ready." A teddy bear, a television and a phone were not nearly enough things for a little to play with, but he still wasn't sure what Crowley would like best. It all depended on how young he would regress. As of late, he was still descending, and struggling with that fact.

There are several other rooms (most just for books), but he sees that his bedroom door is open. The bedroom isn't new, but now it actually houses a bed: Crowley's king-sized one.

"...Ohh." Aziraphale's heart swells with warmth when he peers around the door frame.

Crowley is snuggled in bed, sandwiched between the mattress and at least five blankets along with the sheets and duvet. There's a green iridescent pacifier slowly bobbing between his lips, and his face is as relaxed as Aziraphale's ever witnessed. Oh, how he wishes he could know what sleep is like if Crowley can be this calm and peaceful.

"He does like it." Aziraphale does a happy wiggle in the doorway before entering. He'd left it out in the open, not wanting to put Crowley on the spot about using one. They were helpful in easing anxiety, but if Crowley wasn't that young, he wouldn't force it. It was more of a 'it's here if you want it' sort of thing, left on the nightstand beside the bed.

He sits on the side of the bed and reaches out to gently pet the demon's short, fluffy curls with care. The stresses of the day melt away with each soft, considerate touch. He can feel the demon's breath against his fingertips as he caresses his chin, barely a hint of stubble present anymore on his soft skin.

Aziraphale's new natural instincts remind him he'll soon have to get Crowley something to eat, but he doesn't have the heart to wake him. There's nothing wrong with snuggling up beside him, and what a wonderful opportunity to read a quick chapter or five while being with the one person he loves most. He smiles and watches each time Crowley grunts and groans to unconsciously inch closer towards his angel's warmth, which makes it easier to give him affection in return.

It's a soft gurgle in the depths of Crowley's gut that eventually startles him awake, and the demon slowly returns to consciousness as Aziraphale pulls him into his lap to hug him. "Hello, my sleepy little snake. Did you have a nice nap?"

Crowley nods, drowsy smiles curling on his face as he's peppered with kisses. "Whuh time's it, angel?" He babbles, the dummy dropping into his lap.

"Let's see. Oh dear, seven-thirty. I completely forgot about your supper. I should have awakened you sooner."

"Don't wanna." Crowley curls against Aziraphale without the intention of getting up just yet. "S'warm."

"You've got to have something. Hunger pains are not kind, You remember what happened when you tried to go without lunch the other day."

"Nooo." Crowley whines. "Terrible news, angel. I've forgotten how to walk. Looks like we'll have to stay in bed forever." He murmurs.

Aziraphale _almost_ believes him. " _How absolutely dreadful_." He teases. "Well, perhaps my dear boy is just too little to walk."

"Yup, that's me. You'll have to carry me around the shop, carry me _everywhere_." Crowley smiles against the angel's chest.

"Ah, so you're just a baby snake, now? Is that it?" They both chuckle at each other, Crowley reaching up to caress Aziraphale's face while the angel holds him close. "I'll have to give you a bottle then, your tiny little fangs may not be strong enough to eat solid food."

"..." Crowley's face turns beet red, but the idea sounds lovely. "Really?"

"...Don't let me force you dear. I just assumed we were joking around."

"N-no, I'd...I'd be okay with it." Crowley still isn't thrilled with eating three meals a day, but he does like to drink. If he can drink his meals, he wouldn't mind it as much. "It doesn't have to be in a bottle all the time, just...right now. It's nice to be with you."

"I wholeheartedly agree." Aziraphale thinks for a moment, then snaps his fingers. A baby bottle full of vanilla-flavored breakfast drink materializes, the perfect size for Crowley and all dolled up with cute artwork of Noah's ark and the animal pairs decorating the container. Crowley's blush turns a touch more noticeable, but they're alone in the bedroom, and he can't be bothered to care if anybody is watching.

Aziraphale eases the plastic teat into Crowley's mouth, and he feels tickled pink watching his darling boy drink. They enjoy the silence, and the sounds of the world that seemed to aggravate the angel earlier in the day now create a peaceful evening soundtrack.

"I love and adore you so much, Crowley. I need to tell you that more often."

Crowley swallows the last gulp and relaxes, bringing a hand up to wipe a drop of milk away before speaking. "I know. I know you love me. I'm the one who needs to say it. I don't want us to be apart as long as we have before."

"Well, we are stuck together now, for the most part."

They both enjoy a laugh when Crowley lets out an unusually loud burp.

"What do we say, you silly serpent?"

"...That felt good?" He arches a brow, and they both erupt into a fit of giggles once more.

"Still very much a demon."

"But now I'm -your- demon." Crowley nuzzles against Aziraphale's neck and sighs, content with a full stomach once more.

"Yes, you are. I wouldn't trade you for anything." He sets the bottle aside and hugs Crowley as close as he can, miracling a soft set of lined pajamas onto him. They pull some of the blankets around them, and spend the rest of the evening and night curled up together, the little demon dreaming very pleasant dreams as his angel reads and keeps a watchful eye over him.


End file.
